The Night of the English Invasion
by BarkingatJim
Summary: This is a sequel to my story TNOT MARDI GRAS. James West and Artemus Gordon are travelling to Beaumont, Texas because of a promise Artie made to his friend Rebekah 'Sweetie' Kirby (née Sweetman). If you are unacquainted with Sweetie you might like to read TNOT FLOUNDERING FEMALE and TNOT Mardi Gras.
1. The Bundle

**The Night of the English Invasion**

Chapter 1

 **The Bundle**

 _As usual with my stories you will find very little detail. I just can't be bothered. Also I have been suffering from a problem with concentration for several months – apologies to those whose stories I have delayed reading and reviewing for this reason._

 _Merci, Andamogirl, who encouraged me to finish this story and even offered to finish it for me, if I was not up to it. I'm sure she would have made a very good job of it, probably better than I have but, for the sake of Artie's well-being and because I prefer our heroes with their clothes on, I was forced to finish it myself._

 _No thanks at all go to my dog, Trip, who was constantly asleep on my lap, regularly danced with his paws over my keyboard and scratched the door to be let out all day long, thus slowing down the writing of this story._

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _On the way from where they were to where they are going_

James West and Artemus Gordon were sitting in the varnish car of the Wanderer, discussing their upcoming visit to their friend Sweetie.

"I think I'd better go on ahead and tell her you're still alive, while you stay out of sight," Artie said.

"How do you think Sweetie will handle the news that I'm not dead after all?" Jim asked.

"Well, put it this way, I'm gonna make sure she's not holding anything valuable when I tell her," Artie replied with a grin.

"Good idea," Jim said, smiling.

"Do you still plan to wear your bullet-proof vest?" Artie asked.

"I know I joked about that but I don't think it'll be necessary. I can't believe her husband would let her loose with a firearm and I'm certainly not going to let her near mine. So we should be relatively safe. It'll be good to catch up with Lance and find out how he's getting along as a country doctor. I guess it was too dangerous living with her on an army post with all those explosives around," he quipped.

"To be fair, he was planning on leaving the army anyway, whether he married or not; his wedding to Sweetie just brought the decision forward slightly," Artie said.

"You're right; she's a good woman, Sweetie. Just think how she was willing to give up everything to dedicate her life to looking after me. I know it was partly her fault I was in that situation but she didn't have to offer to do that, and she was so brave, holding back her tears because she knew she'd have to give up Lance. I don't think I've ever met a woman before who was that noble."

"Because the women you get mixed up with are usually the criminal sort, or floozies," Artie accused.

"Occupational hazard," Jim explained, shrugging his shoulders.

"Anyway, Sweetie was terribly upset when she heard about your 'death' and she was kindness itself to me. I was just focused on finding your 'killers', weary from travelling around the clock to try and catch up to them. Sweetie was like an oasis in the desert, she just sat and listened to me and cooked me delicious food."

"Her fight with Jasper must have cheered you up too," James said, attempting to lighten the mood. "I wish I'd been there."

"It was touch and go whether she would win it," Artie said with a chuckle. "And she wasn't at all embarrassed that her underwear was being paraded around the garden in sight of anyone who cared to look."

"That sounds like Sweetie. You'd better leave Jasper with me when you go to give her the news. One shock at a time will be enough. It's a good job I get on so well with the little fellah."

"Yeah, you not only steal all the pretty women from under my nose but you've taken my dog too."

"Come off it, Artie, you know you're more of a cat person, they suit your habits of sitting around reading text books or pottering in your laboratory. Dogs like to be with active people like me. Where is Jasper, by the way?" he asked, looking around the room to see if he could spot him lying asleep somewhere, giving the lie to his assertion.

They searched the train, calling the dog's name but didn't find him.

"Oh no," Jim said. "Don't tell me we left him at the last station. It'll take ages to turn back and get him and we'll have to get authorisation from the railroad."

"Maybe he's on the back platform," Artie suggested, grasping at straws. "I know there's not much room but..."

"Let's take a look," Jim said, moving to the door.

"Wait a moment, I'll ask Orin to slow down the train," Artie said, reaching for the speaking tube that connected their living quarters with the engineer.

True to his personality, Jim didn't wait for the order to be carried out but went straight over and opened the door. He stepped out, clasping the guard rail and almost treading on Jasper's tail.

"What's wrong, boy?" he asked, hearing the dog whine. "Are you injured?" Then he realised that Jasper was not the only thing on the back platform. He was snuggled up to a bundle of blankets, resting his paw protectively on top, and was looking up at his master with soft brown eyes. "What have you got there, boy?" Jim asked, moving closer. He almost leapt back in alarm when the bundle let out a wail and he saw one small, pink hand appear, just as the train began to slow down.

Jim stroked the dog. "Good boy," he said, then leaned over and picked up the bundle. He pulled back the blanket to examine the contents and found himself looking down into the screwed-up face of a small baby." He steadied himself and turned back to the door, where Artie was standing.

"Here, take this," he said, handing the infant over and turning back to reach for the dog.

Jasper was already making for the door to follow his tiny human charge, nearly upending Jim in the process. "Whoa!" Jim exclaimed, righting himself and following partner, baby and dog back into the varnish car.

The baby was screaming its dislike at being woken up and manhandled. Artie was holding it at arm's length, bobbing it up and down,

"Do you know what you're doing?" Jim asked.

"What do you think?" Artie complained.

"I just thought, because you're older than me..."

"What's that got to do with it?"

"You must have come across _some_ babies."

"Where would that be, Jim? When I was travelling the country as an actor or maybe as a spy during the civil war?"

"Yeah well..."

"Well, I don't know any more about babies than you do."

"At least you've stopped it crying," Jim said, as the child gulped back its tears and gurgled at them. "Whoa! What's that terrible smell?"

If possible, Artie held the baby even further away from him and grimaced in disgust. "I think it just filled its nappy," he said, trying to breathe through his mouth and not his nose.

"Just what we need," Jim said.

Artie shoved the baby into Jim's arms before he had a chance to dodge him. "Here, you take it to your compartment and I'll fetch what we'll need to clean it up," he said.

With equal distaste, Jim carried the baby warily toward his bedroom. Balancing it in the crook of his arm, he grabbed a gabardine cloak from a nearby chair and placed it on the bed before laying the baby on top of it.

Just then Artie bustled in, carrying a bowl of warm water and a flannel, also a pot with some kind of gel in it.

"What's that?" Jim asked.

"It's a refined grease, called petroleum jelly, for use on the skin as a barrier to moisture. It was formulated by a Mr Chesebrough. I've been using it in the laboratory as a lubricant. I thought it would be the best thing to put on the baby's bottom, once I've cleaned it."

Jim nodded. Artie was usually right about these things. He peeled away the layers of blankets from the baby and lifted its gown so that Artie could unpin its nappy. Jim had just exclaimed, "It's a boy!" when a stream of pee hit Artie full in the face. "Bulls-eye!" Jim said and Artie gave him and then the baby a filthy look.

Artie used his handkerchief to wipe the moisture from his face and neck while Jim took a closer look at the blankets that had been swaddling the baby. "Hey!" he said, "There's a note tucked inside."

"What does it say?" Artie asked.

"It says, 'Please look after my baby, Arthur, and keep him safe. Take him as far away from here as possible!' It's not signed."

Both men looked down at the baby. Just who was his mother and why did she send her baby away?

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	2. Return to Beaumont

**The Night of the English Invasion**

Chapter 2

 **Return to Beaumont**

Putting questions aside for the moment, Jim and Artie applied themselves to changing Arthur's nappy. The first thing Artie did was fling the soiled one out of the window, with the words, "That's the safest place for that!"

Jim didn't disagree. The next problem was a little more difficult to solve.

"How do we clean his butt?" Jim asked.

Artie lifted the baby up and looked at him from all angles. "I think, if you place one hand on either side of his body and you hold him in the air but with his face down..."

Jim tried that and the baby flopped forward, legs flailing, as he kicked with glee. Artie took the cloth and soaked it in the water.

"Blast, I've forgotten the soap," he said. "Hold him there while I go and fetch it."

Jim opened his mouth to complain but shut it again when he remembered that Artie was the one doing the horrible job of cleaning up the baby and he had no real reason to grumble. He sighed and awaited Artie's return.

"Here we go, I've found the soap and also something to use as a nappy," Artie announced on his return. He expertly applied soap to the wet cloth and cleaned the baby's bottom and then applied a thin layer of petroleum jelly.

"That should keep him comfortable," he said, "Now for the nappy."

Jim was surprised when he saw it. "I can't believe you've sacrificed your evening scarf for the little fellah," he said.

"I didn't," Artie mumbled through the safety pin in his mouth, "It's yours," he added, fastening the 'nappy' securely and taking the baby from his partner.

"What?" Jim said.

"Aw come on Jim, it's in a good cause. You can always get that pretty young lady in the accounts department to pay for another one."

Jim threw the wet cloth at Artie but he ducked and laughed when he saw Jim remember what the cloth had been used for, quickly grab it off the floor and place it back in the water. "Now what?" Jim asked.

"I guess we have to feed him," Artie said, just as the baby started to cry again.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

The next day the Wanderer pulled into Houston. Jim and Artie had spent the last twenty-four hours trying to find liquid food suitable for a baby, scrubbing various surfaces and themselves clean, and changing nappies. Various unsuitable items of clothing and pillow cases had been sacrificed to the cause.

"I've come to a conclusion, Jim," Artie said, plonking himself down on the couch with uncharacteristic weariness.

"What's that?"

"We have to get Arthur into Sweetie's hands as soon as possible."

"But I thought we agreed it was too dangerous for her ever to have a baby," Jim reminded him.

"Desperate times require desperate measures," Artie said. "I never knew that one baby could produce so much effluent and dribble let alone the vomit. I can't take any more."

Jim looked at his partner. He did look as if he was completely worn out.

"Artie, you've done an excellent job; no one could have achieved as much with so little knowledge and experience," Jim tried to soothe him. "But you're right. We now have to take the risk of involving Sweetie." He looked over at the baby, asleep in a drawer, lying on one of Jim's pillows and covered with a blanket. "Poor little fellah," he said.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

In Houston Jim and Artie bought supplies for the baby, a couple of dozen terry towelling nappies, a supply of Liebig's soluble baby food, several changes of clothing, as well as a baby basket with a separate stand, and some blankets. The railroad to their destination having fallen into disrepair during the Civil War, Jim and Artie travelled the distance between Houston and Beaumont with Artie on horseback and Jim driving a hired buckboard to transport the supplies and the baby, now ensconced comfortably in the basket, by his side. Jasper sat up front with him, guarding the small bundle, and his horse was tied on the back.

Once they reached Beaumont they booked a hotel room so that they could freshen up. Jasper was left to keep the horses company in the livery stable while Artie changed the baby and dressed him in one of his new gowns.

Arthur was smiling broadly, impeding Artie by kicking his legs in the air and looking as cute as a button.

"All nice and clean and smart, to meet your new mummy," he cooed at him.

"I hope you're not getting too attached to that baby," Jim said, putting his jacket on over a clean shirt and fresh neck-tie.

"There's no chance of that, though you are very cute," Artie said, tickling Arthur on the soles of his feet.

"I hope you're talking to him and not me," Jim joked. "Are you ready? We ought to get going as soon as possible."

"We'll be right there," Artie replied, though truthfully he would rather just lie down on the comfortable-looking bed and go to sleep.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

It didn't take them long to reach the Kirby's house on the outskirts of Beaumont. As agreed, Jim stayed back, with the baby and the dog, while Artie rode on ahead to give Sweetie the good news that Jim was still alive. He was imagining her running to greet him, a smile on her face, but as he rode up to the house he was greeted instead by the sight of a female behind sticking out of a hedge.

"Sweetie?" he asked, though he couldn't really imagine it would be anyone but her.

"Artie? Is that you?" came a muffled voice from within the foliage.

"Yes. What on earth are you doing?" he asked, approaching the opposite side of the hedge, from where he could see Sweetie's face.

"Hello Artie," she said. "I'm sorry you haven't found me at my best," she apologized.

"It's a good thing I came along, by the look of things."

"Well, I _was_ wondering what I was going to do," she admitted.

"I know this may sound like a silly question but what are you doing in there?" he asked.

"It was the craziest thing. I was walking across the garden to pull up a weed and I must have tripped over something because I suddenly found myself hurtling through the hedge and now I can't seem to free myself," she said, attempting to wiggle her head. "It's no good, I'm stuck fast. I don't like to think what Lance would say if he saw me like this."

Artie didn't bother to say that this was probably exactly the sort of thing her long-suffering husband expected of her. Instead, he pulled a knife from his boot and started cutting away the thick twigs that were digging into Sweetie's neck.

Once she was freed Sweetie hugged Artie and kissed him on the cheek. "See, there was nothing to worry about," she said. "How are you?" As she asked, her face took on a sad aspect, obviously remembering the last time she had seen him, when he was still grieving deeply for his dead partner.

"Let's go into the house and sit down," Artie said. "I have something to tell you."

"Alright, I need to tidy myself first though. I must look like I've been pulled through a hedge backwards," she added, putting her hand to her hair.

Artie sighed and followed her into the house, shaking his head.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

When he heard a loud shriek, Jim took that as a sign that Artie had given Aweetie the news of his continued existence and he prepared to go and meet her. He untied his horse from the buckboard which he now left behind and rode toward the house with Arthur in one arm, the reins in the other and Jasper at his horse's heels.

Sweetie ran from the house with Artie following her and made a bee line for Jim, with laughter and tears on her face. She stopped abruptly when she saw he was carrying a baby. She looked from one to the other of them.

"My goodness," she said. "So, which one of you is the father?".

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	3. In Safe Hands

**The Night of the English Invasion**

Chapter 3

 **In safe Hands?**

"Have I said something wrong?" Sweetie asked when she saw the look of shock on Jim and Artie's faces.

"Well..." Artie began.

"Neither of us is the father," Jim responded to her first question. "The baby was abandoned on the back plate of the Wanderer. His name is Arthur by the way."

Sweetie still looked sceptical so Jim handed the baby to Artie and took the note out of his pocket. "This was left with the baby," he said.

Sweetie read it.

"Oh the poor mother," she said, "Forced to give up her child like that. She must be frantic with worry."

Neither Jim nor Artie had thought of that aspect of it, being too busy caring for the baby.

"Are you sure you don't know her?" Sweetie asked.

"For the last time, neither of us is the father," Jim said. "We brought him here in the hope that you would look after him while we searched for his mother."

"Of course I will," Sweetie said, taking Arthur from Artie who handed him over with a sense of relief.

"I'll call you Artie junior," she told the baby, effortlessly shortening "Arthur" in a way that hadn't occurred to the boys. Artie Senior was not amused.

While Jim and Sweetie went into the house, Artie scowled and went to retrieve the buckboard and the supplies for the baby.

Sweetie sat at the table, rocking the baby in her arms. She looked up at Jim smiling. "I'm so glad you're not dead," she said.

"So am I," he responded with his own smile.

"Yes, I suppose you must be." At that point she was surprised to find a furry nose nudging her knee. "What are you doing here? Come back for my corsets this time have you?"

"That's Jasper, he's with us," Jim explained. "Artie adopted him the last time he was here."

"Oh he did, did he - and after the little monster tried to make off with my best pair of drawers too?"

"I think Artie was lonely," Jim said. He didn't need to say any more. Sweetie understood straight away.

"That poor man, you should have seen him when he arrived here, broken-hearted over your death and worn to the bone trying to find your killers." Her eyes sparkled with tears. "Poor Artie!" she said. "No one should have to go through that." She gulped and hugged the baby tighter, kissing him on the forehead as if he was a substitute for Artie Senior, as if she could go back in time and comfort him when she remembered how bereft he had been.

"But everything's different now," she said, brightening up. "You're alive and we have a baby to worry about. Someone needs to feed the dog as well," she added, as practical as ever.

"I'll take care of Jasper," Jim said. "I have some beef jerky in my saddle bag. Artie's bringing in the supplies for the baby."

"Are you sure he should be doing that; he looks positively haggard?"

At those words, Artie entered the house, bringing the nappies with him. "Did I miss something?" he asked, looking at their faces.

"No not at all," Jim said. "I'll help you carry the supplies in."

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

It wasn't long before Artie Jr. needed to be changed again. The boys were keen to see how Sweetie was going to manage this single-handedly and were ready to lend a hand. They looked on wide-eyed as she laid the baby on his back and lifted his legs deftly with one hand. She cleaned him and smoothed some sort of home-made ointment on his bottom before wrapping him in a clean, new nappy.

"I guess you've had to do your share of this," Sweetie said.

"Oh yes," Artie agreed sagely. "It's easy when you know what you're doing, of course."

Jim didn't contradict him.

"You really are great guys for looking after this little fellow so well," she said beaming at them.

"Well..." Artie said, a bit embarrassed but drinking up the praise.

"Perhaps you'd like to settle him down for a nap in his new basket," she said to Artie.

"Sure," he said and picked up the baby.

Sweetie turned to Jim. "Do you think he's alright?" she asked.

"What the baby?"

"No, Artie. Do you think he's okay?"

"Artie? He's fine. Why?"

"He doesn't just look haggard, he seems tired out. He's trying to hide it but I can tell. And, sometimes he seems to go off into a world of his own. He has this sort of blank stare on his face."

"I didn't notice any of that," Jim said.

"Well what do you expect, you're a man."

"I'm not saying there's anything wrong but, if there is, what do you think it is?"

"I think he's worn himself out looking for your so-called killers," Sweetie said. "Maybe you should talk to Lance about him, when he gets home."

Jim nodded just as Artie returned.

He looked at their faces. "Did I miss something?" he asked.

"No," Sweetie said. "Why don't you sit and rest while I fix a meal."

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Later, after Lance had arrived home, the four of them sat down to eat. Lance had been apprised of their mission by Sweetie.

"How do you intend to track down the child's mother?" he asked.

"We plan to head back to the last stop the Wanderer made before we found the baby," Jim said.

"Have you considered that she might be dead? After all, there must have been some reason she wanted her son as far away as possible. They might both have been in danger."

"In that case, we'll run down her killers and find out what they want with her baby."

"Be careful," Sweetie said. "I don't want anything to happen to you two."

"Now my dear, you have to let them do their jobs," Lance told her.

Artie looked from Sweetie to Jim and then shook his head, to clear his mind. He was afraid that his thoughts seemed to be all over the place at the moment and the sleep he'd lost looking after the baby hadn't helped. Maybe he'd get an early night.

"But it isn't their job," Sweetie argued, "No one's ordered them to do it."

"But they have to do it nevertheless," Lance told her. "You know that, Sweetie."

Sweetie relented. "Lance is right, you have to find that poor woman and get her baby back to her, though it is a cute little thing and I wouldn't mind looking after it a bit longer."

Artie just about heard the words over the buzzing in his ears. What on earth was happening to him?

"Thank you Sweetie; that will be a load off our minds," Jim said. "We know you'll take good care of Arthur while we're away."

"You'll stay here tonight though," Lance invited them.

"No, I think we should get back to the Wanderer as soon as possible. We don't want to waste any more time," Jim said.

He heard his partner say, "Jim," and turned to him just in time to see him slide off his chair onto the floor.

Artie heard Sweetie say "I knew something like that would happen," just before the blackness hit him in the face and he knew no more.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	4. Burned Out

**The Night of the English Invasion**

Chapter 4

 **Burned Out**

Jim lifted Artie in his arms, searching his face for signs of life. Jasper had appeared from nowhere and began licking Artie's face. Jim pushed him away. Jasper moved away to sit by his master's head, unwilling to leave his side.

"Bring him to the parlour!" Sweetie said.

Jim followed her, keeping an eye on his partner, aware that he was breathing but hating being in the dark as to what had happened to him. He laid him on the couch and was firmly pushed to one side as Lance knelt by Artie's side. Jim gave way, realising how fortunate they were to be in a doctor's house.

Jasper, ran after then, walked round in a circle twice, whining, and then lay down on the floor next to the couch with his head on his paws.

Lance swiftly looked Artie over.

"How is he?" Jim demanded. "Is he going to be alright?"

Artie chose that moment to open his eyes.

"Thank God," Jim said. "You had me really worried there, pal."

"What happened?" Artie asked, dazed and feebly trying to push himself off the couch.

"You stay right there!" Lance ordered.

Artie lay back with a sigh. He realised he was in no condition to stand up yet. In fact he reversed the decision to open his eyes and closed them again.

Jim took his friend's hand. "Artie! Artie!" he said.

Jasper whined at the anxiety in Jim's voice.

"Sorry Jim," Artie mumbled, without opening his eyes.

"Lance?" Jim said.

"He feels cold to the touch and he appears to be getting colder by the minute. Help me get him upstairs to bed where we can warm him up."

Jim moved forward instantly and picked his partner up from the couch and carried him up the stairs. Sweetie led him to a bedroom at the back of the house and the doctor followed them. Jasper had been shut in downstairs.

Once Artie had been placed on the bed, Lance sent Sweetie away to fetch a warm drink before he and Jim put their patient into a pair of pyjamas, wrapped him in a shawl and placed him in the bed, piling sheets, blankets and a quilt on top of him. Once he started to warm up, Artie perked up a bit. Sweetie returned with the drink, which she placed on the bedside table. Lance then shooed her and Jim out of the room and closed the door so that he could examine his patient properly. Jim stood white-faced leaning on the wall opposite while Sweetie went back downstairs muttering something about feeding the baby. Only then did Jim realise that little Arthur had been wailing for some time.

After ten minutes or so the bedroom door opened and Lance appeared. Jim grabbed his arm.

"Well?" he demanded.

"His breathing is shallow and his pulse is weak. It's very likely that he is suffering a physical collapse. It may affect him mentally as well. So we'll have to be ready for that. Artemus has told me the whole story, or as much as he could in his weakened condition, but most of it I guessed when he last visited us. When he was following your captors from New Orleans down to Mexico he drove himself too hard, getting little sleep and not eating properly, spending most of his time on the trail. Whenever he was on the Wanderer things were a little better but he was too busy making plans and grieving over you to make up very much sleep. By the time he arrived in Mexico he was running more or less on adrenalin and only allowed himself to unwind a little bit once you had the perpetrators in jail. Even back on the train, however, the addition of a small, demanding baby meant he couldn't relax and I'm afraid he just totally overdid things and taxed his body beyond what it could bear. He's come dangerously close to permanently damaging his health."

"What can we do?" Jim asked worriedly.

"He needs complete rest and quiet for at least a week and we need to feed him up. I'm going to go now and make him up some tonic," Lance said. "He should make a full recovery.

"Thank God. I did notice he had lost weight but I didn't realise there was anything wrong with him," Jim said. "I should have realised."

"Don't go blaming yourself, Jim. This is the first time either of you has had time to take stock since you went missing and with what you've both been through it's no surprise you didn't spot that Artemus was ill. Besides which I suspect he did his best to hide any symptoms from you. You both need to stop being so damned heroic and take care of yourselves a bit more."

"Duly noted, doctor," Jim said with a hint of his usual smile. "Can I see him now?"

"I guess so but don't let him talk too much."

Jim nodded and entered the room. The curtains were drawn, cutting out the light, but he could easily make out the form of his partner lying in the bed, propped up on a bank of pillows, bedclothes up to his chin, his eyes closed.

Not knowing whether he was asleep, Jim didn't know if he should let Artie know he was there. Then he saw his friend's hand move on the bedcover and he reached out and took hold of it. Artie squeezed his hand and opened his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said for the second time that day and then, unbidden, tears started to his eyes. They began to drip from his eyelashes and he put up a hand to wipe them away. "I don't know what's wrong with me," he added.

"Don't worry about it, Pal," Jim said. "You're not to worry about anything, do you hear?" He said soothingly. "You've worn yourself out worrying about me and depriving yourself of food and sleep. Your being tearful is your brain's reaction to being overused and coping with all the worry. I'm really not worth it, you know." He smiled.

Artie gave him a watery smile in return.

"I'm going to leave you now because Lance says you need rest and quiet but I won't be far away and I'll look in on you later. I'll see if Jasper is allowed up here to keep you company. Okay?"

Artie nodded. "Thanks Jim," he said.

Jim gave his partner's hand one more squeeze to reassure him and then he left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Two minutes later a small furry face peered into the room and, seeing his master lying there, looking unwell, Jasper came right in, padded over to the bed and very carefully jumped onto the counterpane and lay down. Without opening his eyes, Artie put out a hand and stroked the dog's ears. Thus encouraged, Jasper drew a little nearer and lay with his head nestled on Artie's arm. When Jim looked in on them later, they were both fast asleep.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

"Did you bath this baby when you were on the Wanderer?" Sweetie asked, gently soaping Artie Jr. as he lay in the wash tub.

"I think Artie held him under the shower when he got particularly icky," Jim replied.

"You poor little mite," Sweetie cooed at the baby, "Being taken care of by those two rough men."

She was sorry to see that didn't even get a rise out of Jim, whose mind was obviously on his friend upstairs.

"He'll be okay, you know. Lance will make sure of that," she said.

"What? Oh yes, I guess you're right. When will he be ready to travel back to town, Lance?"

Lance looked up. "Well, I don't think he should be moved for at least a few days."

Sweetie was towelling the baby dry. "Why don't you both stay here until Artie recovers," she suggested without looking up.

"I..we have a hotel room in Beaumont," he said.

"Well, why don't you go into town tomorrow and pay the hotel bill and move all your gear here?" Lance said.

Jim looked at Sweetie.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," she agreed. "You can help me look after the baby."

Jim looked sceptical but readily agreed. It was obvious that Artie would be better off at the doctor's house, with good food, rest and medical care on hand.

"Okay," he said. "I'll ride into town tomorrow morning."

"I'll go with you, if you don't mind," Sweetie said. "I need some dog biscuits for Jasper. You appear to have forgotten to bring any with you."

"Is there such a thing?" Jim asked.

"Yes, they started off in England. My father buys them for his dog."

"Sorry, we just got into the habit of feeding Jasper scraps."

"I'll bring Artie Jr. as well. An outing will do him good and it will get him out of Lance's hair."

"If you say so," Jim said. He wasn't at all sure it would be a wise thing.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

After visiting Artie to make sure he was all right, Jim helped Sweetie up onto the seat of the buck board and then passed the baby up to her. Having seen her deal with Arthur over the past twenty-four hours he was happy to trust her with his welfare. She seemed to lose all her clumsiness when around him. Jim had told Artie of the plan for them to stay at the house and he had appeared to Jim to be actually relieved. That just showed how ill he was and Jim wouldn't have left him had Lance not been there.

As they entered Beaumont, they were unaware of a man in a smart, black suit, standing in front of the bank, watching their every move.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	5. The Man in the Black Suit

**The Night of the English Invasion**

Chapter 5

 **The man in the black suit**

Sweetie went to buy the dog biscuits while Jim booked out of the hotel and stowed his and Artie's gear on the buck board. When he was finished, Jim went over to the mercantile store to meet up with Sweetie. When he arrived he saw a young man heading toward their vehicle carrying a sack of dog biscuits. He entered the store to hear Sweetie talking. She had handed the baby to the woman behind the counter and was trying on a pair of dancing slippers.

"Aren't these divine?" she said. "It's so good to get out of boots for a while." She did a small pirouette. "They'll be just right for the dance next month," she added, as she span round, kicking her foot into the air. The action caused the slipper to shoot off across the shop, almost decapitating a cat and smashing a pile of china. With a squeak, she ran over to retrieve the projectile and assess the damage. "Thank goodness it wasn't the good china," she said with relief.

"You'll have to pay for it," the woman behind the counter said, shifting the baby from one arm to the other so that she could add it to the bill of sale.

"Of course," Sweetie said. "I don't have to take it with me though, do I? I'd rather Lance didn't find out. He expects me to at least get the crockery home before I smash it. Now I won't be able to afford the new slippers," she added with a sigh as she looked sadly down at her feet.

"Allow me to buy those for you," Jim stepped forward to say.

"Hi Jim, I didn't know you were there." She looked at Jim and then her feet and then at Jim again. "Would it really be alright if I let you buy them for me?" she asked, hopefully.

"You could look on it as a little something to repay you for looking after Artie and me," Jim said. "And I'll throw in the china."

That brought a beaming smile to Sweetie's face and she gave Jim a kiss on the cheek before turning to the woman with the baby. "Did you hear that, Mrs Brennan, add them to the bill will you please?"

The woman seemed not at all scandalised by the fact of a strange man buying Mrs Kirby dancing slippers, but by then she had already had to deal with Sweetie having handed her a small baby which she had no doubt was not hers and for which she had been given only the explanation that she was looking after for it for someone, only she didn't know who. The folk in Beaumont had had time to get used to Sweetie and nothing she did surprised them anymore.

"Yes Mrs Kirby," she said.

"I'll pay for the dog biscuits as well," Jim said. "After all Jasper is Artie's dog." Jim paid over the money and took the parcel while Sweetie remembered to take back the baby.

"Thank you," she sang out as she left the shop and walked with Jim back to the buck board.

"Thank you for bringing me into town," she said, "and for being so generous. I guess we'd better get back now and check on Artie," she added, knowing that was probably what Jim was about to say.

""You know, you're one of the sweetest people I know," Jim couldn't help saying, knowing that most other women would want to spend more time looking at the shops.

"I'm not surprised, considering the sort of women you meet in your line of work. And stop flirting with me, Jim West!"

Jim laughed. "I wouldn't dare," he said, deciding not to point out that she was one of the women he had met whilst on assignment.

Just then a smartly-dressed man appeared out of nowhere and bent down to the roadway, just by Sweetie's feet. He rose with a dollar coin in his hand.

"I thought I saw you drop this," he said, presenting it to her.

Sweetie looked at him non-plussed. "I don't think so," she said.

"I must be mistaken then. What a bonny child," he remarked, taking a look at Arthur before putting the dollar back in his pocket.

"Why, thank you," Sweetie said.

"Looks like you have an admirer," Jim said.

Sweetie frowned. "What an odd man," she said. "I've never seen him before."

Jim drew her away. "We should be on our way," he said, helping her up onto the seat.

Sweetie forgot about the man as they drove out of town while Jim's mind had turned to his partner and how he was getting on. Neither of them noticed that the man in the black suit was still watching them.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Back at the Kirby house, Artie was glad he was on his own, apart from Jasper of course. He was ashamed to find that he simply couldn't stop the tears caused by his weakness. Lance had explained that it was a symptom of his being completely spent physically and emotionally and would soon pass. He just couldn't understand why it had all happened so suddenly. He did remember feeling out of sorts lately and he had correctly diagnosed his recent lifestyle as the cause. But he had thought that a few days would find him back to normal. He had had no idea that his body and mind had already gone past the point where they could heal that easily. Still, the crying had come as a big surprise and there was a more worrying aspect to his illness that he would have to suffer on his own; he was scared that he had lost his nerve. When he looked back at recent events he was left wondering how he had possibly been able to rescue Jim from his Mexican captors. The thought of undertaking any further missions made a cold shiver run through his head, as if his brain was slowly freezing. He felt as weak as a kitten besides and was happy to be stuck in bed for the time-being. He hoped there would be no need for Colonel Richmond to be told about his collapse and relied on Jim to keep him from knowing. He must speak to him about that. He yawned, looked around for Jasper, remembered Lance had taken him out to the garden to get some exercise, turned over and fell asleep again. He was so worn out that even his worry for the future couldn't keep him awake for long. Besides, he still had the hope that he would wake up and find himself back to normal. His last half thought, half dream was that maybe Lance could help him and then he found himself in conversation with Miguelito Loveless who was telling him he shouldn't be there because he was no longer a secret service agent and the dream took over completely.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Jim arrived back at the house in time for lunch. Jasper ran out to greet him and then went to his basket in the kitchen, to munch on the dog biscuit Jim had thrown to hm. Sweetie went to show Lance her new dancing slippers before setting about feeding the baby. Jim had carried his and Artie's gear into the house and dumped it in the hallway for the time being. He felt that he ought to stay and help prepare lunch but he knew it would turn out better if he didn't. So he poured himself a cup of coffee and went upstairs.

He found Artie curled up in bed with his back to the window. Sun was streaming in but his face was in shadow.

"Artie?" he said in a whisper. "I'm pretty sure from your breathing that you're awake but, if you want to be alone, just tell me. I'll understand. You must be really tired still." Then something occurred to him. "I didn't wake you up did I?" he whispered, feeling guilty at the thought he might have disturbed his friend. He thought he saw Artie shake his head.

"Okay then, do you want me to keep you company?"

There was a moment's silence before a muffled "yes" came from the bed. Artie didn't sound like himself.

"All right," Jim said, settling himself into an armchair. He sighed before taking a sip of the strong brew.

"I also brought our gear over from the hotel," he said. Artie remained silent and Jim decided he needed cheering up. "Wait until I tell you what Sweetie did in the Mercantile Store. It was a classic."

This was met with more silence then suddenly Artie gave a deep sigh and rolled over onto his back. He was looking at the ceiling though, not at his partner.

"I could really do with some whiskey," he said, in a not-too-steady voice.

"Sorry Pal, no alcohol allowed, doctor's orders. Why don't I fetch you a cup of coffee?" Artie frowned. "I didn't make it if that's what's worrying you. Lance must have brewed it while I was out."

"I might have some later."

Jim was disturbed by his friend's tone of voice and the request for alcohol. It just wasn't like him.

"Jim, will you do me a favour?" Artie asked in a flat voice.

"Of course, what is it?"

"Don't let Washington know about any of this. If Colonel Richmond found out he'd just make a fuss and take me off active service and send me to the hospital. I can trust you, can't I, Jim?"

Although Artie tried to hide the tremble in his voice Jim heard it and would have liked to put his mind at rest but...

"I won't say a word for the moment," he said, "But I'm worried about you and I won't agree to anything that could jeopardise your recovery. Lance is happy for us to stay here for a week or so. We'll see how you are at the end of that time, okay?"

He was alarmed to hear what sounded like a muffled sob from Artie and took a step toward the bed then stopped. Much as he wanted to do something to help him that was not the way. It would only embarrass his partner and could cause a rift between them if he thought Jim had noticed.

So, squaring his shoulders he said "I'd better go and see if Sweetie needs some help with making lunch. I'll bring some up for you when it's ready."

As it happened, it was not Jim who took some of the delicious food up to Artie's room. He was keen to talk to Lance and, despite having said he would do it himself, thought that a visit from Sweetie might be the best thing for Artie at the moment. She had wanted to make sure that Artie was okay for herself and this was her opportunity.

Sweetie knocked gently on the door as she entered. "Hi Artie, it's me. I've brought you some lunch," she said.

Artie sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Hi Sweetie," he said.

Sweetie put the tray on the bedside table while she made sure Artie was comfortable, placing an extra pillow behind him, so that he could sit up. "There, that's better," she said as she put the tray on his lap, Artie eventually looked up at her. He tried to smile but his lips just wouldn't stay in place.

"Oh Artie," Sweetie said, and flung her arms around him, "You poor darling!"

Artie returned the hug.

Sweetie cooed at him, much as she would with the baby, a comforting sound, at least it seemed to work that way on Artie. Neither of them noticed that her right breast was now covered in mashed potatoes and gravy.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	6. The Horse Ride

**The Night of the English Invasion**

Chapter 6

 **The Horse Ride**

Suddenly Artie jerked away from her.

He gulped and wiped his face with his hand. "I'm sorry," he said, "I shouldn't have done that."

"Well I think you should," Sweetie replied, taking one of his hands in hers.

Artie pulled it away. "What would Lance think?" he said.

"That you're behaving perfectly naturally for someone in your state of health," Sweetie replied. "He could tell you were storing something up inside you but we both thought you would confide in Jim. Do you think you could talk to me about it?"

"There are some things that a man keeps to himself," Artie pointed out, beginning to get control, though suddenly feeling exhaustion stealing over him, as it had been doing recently.

"Nonsense," Sweetie said. "It's not surprising that you would be emotional after all you've been through. You've obviously held all this in way past the time when it became unhealthy."

Artie nodded. "I saw it as a weakness and not a side of me that I would expose to anyone willingly," he said. He was happy to let Sweetie think that that was all that was wrong with him. He ran his fingers through his hair. "Sometimes I feel like my mind is melting," he couldn't stop himself confiding. He sighed.

""Why did you let things get so bad?"

"There didn't seem to be a problem at first. I just felt really worn out. I hadn't been sleeping and eating hardly anything at all and I was fighting my emotions over what I thought was Jim's death. Then when I found him alive I guess I thought the joy of it would cancel out the other side of things. Boy was I wrong. I could feel things weren't right but I just ploughed on, praying that it would all go away as time went on. Instead it just got worse. Collapsing in your kitchen took me by surprise though."

"You really scared me. You were so pale and you were on the verge of damaging your health permanently." She looked closely at his face and her woman's intuition told her Artie was hiding something. "You really should talk to Jim. He's a good listener," she said obliquely.

Artie looked startled, wondering if Sweetie had discerned his fears. But there was no sign in her face of anything but concern. He looked down at the tray. "This looks very appetising," he said, lifting a fork to scoop up some of the potato into his mouth. "Mmm...delicious."

"I guess that's a 'no'," Sweetie said, crossing her arms to show her disapproval. That was when she found the mashed potato on her bosom. "Ugh! Why didn't you tell me?"

That elicited a smile from Artie. Sweetie left to change her dress and Artie looked down at the plate of food in front of him. The smile disappeared as he realised he would have to force it down, despite having no appetite if he was ever to get over this weakness and recover his strength. He took a deep breath and tried some of the chicken.

There was no way Jim could leave the Kirby house without his partner and to tell the truth he was enjoying the peace and quiet of family life, something he rarely got to participate in. However, his conscience was telling him that he ought to be on the move, looking for Arthur's mother and trying to find out why she would abandon her baby. Then he would remember the way Artie had collapsed and decide nothing would pry him away from his side until he was sure Artie had recovered. He had an idea that Artie was hiding something from him too and he wanted to be there when he decided to talk. Artie had always called him stubborn but now it seemed his partner had taken a leaf out of his book.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

A few days later James West was sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee and feeling restless. Sweetie was tidying up.

"I'm going for a ride," Jim announced, putting down his cup and standing up.

Sweetie turned to look at him. "What a good idea," she said. "Mind if I come with you. I don't get to ride much because Lance doesn't like me riding alone and he's usually too busy to go with me."

"Alright," Jim said, understanding Kirby's reluctance to let Sweetie out alone on a horse. Any woman would be at risk and one as accident-prone as Sweetie would be doubly so. There were rattle snakes and rocks that could unseat unwary travellers.

"I'll just go and check on Artie Jnr. and ask Lance to keep an eye on him and Artie Sr. While we're gone. Then I'll go and change," she said, scurrying out of the kitchen. "Saddle my horse for me, will you?"

Then she left and Jim headed out to the stable. Artie would be all right without him around for an hour or two. He was still sleeping a lot and if he was holding something back he had made no sign that he was going to talk about it any time soon. He sighed as he opened the stable door.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Mrs Honoria Fortescue-Drummond scowled at the man in front of her. "You nincompoop!" she exploded, in a precise English accent. "Why on earth did you let them out of your sight?"

The man being addressed, who was wearing a smart black suit, was also English. His name was Dominic Mears and he looked nervously back at his employer.

"I spent the day asking around Beaumont, to see if I could find out who the pair of them were. No one would tell me. It seems people in small towns are suspicious of strangers," he said, addressing the carpet.

He did well to evade her gimlet gaze. If looks could kill he would be lying dead at her feet. "If you had any sense, and I'm beginning to believe you are totally bereft of that commodity, you would have followed them to where they are staying, where they are keeping Arthur," she pointed out.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, what do you want me to do now?" he asked sheepishly.

The formidable, middle-aged lady paced the floor, trying to decide the best plan of action. As soon as Mears had contacted her from Beaumont with the news that he had caught sight of her grandson she had packed a small percentage of the luggage she had brought from England and made her way, with her manservant and two hired guns to a house outside of the town. The house was not at all to her liking and it was definitely not up to her usual standard of accommodation. She thought longingly of her well-ordered London town house. But she was a determined woman and she would have put up with a lot worse in order to gain her purpose in coming to the Colonies, as she still referred to them. She stopped abruptly and turned on Mears, surprising him into taking a step back. She pointed a finger at him.

"I want you to take two of the hired men and search the area. You are the only one who knows what this man and woman look like. Make sure you are armed but don't for goodness sake shoot anyone. Hopefully we can reverse the damage caused by your bungling."

"I shall leave with all possible haste," Mears said.

"Oh get out of my sight!" Mrs Fortescue-Drummond ordered. "And don't return unless you have good news to bring me."

Mears nodded and left to go and carry out his orders, glad to escape from his employer.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Jim and Sweetie set off on their ride in the afternoon sunshine, their horses moving at a companionable trot.

"It's lovely to get out of the house and into the sunshine," Sweetie said in a dreamy voice, looking up at the blue sky.

"It's the fresh air and the exercise that appeal to me," Jim replied. He was itching to take his horse for a long gallop, but he was waiting for Sweetie to tell him what was on her mind as there was obviously something. "But I don't think you came riding with me just for the sunshine. What's on your mind?" he asked.

Sweetie looked at him and accidentally dropped the reigns. Thankfully, at that slow speed she was able to pick them up again.

"I'm worried about Artie," she said. "He admitted to me that there's something wrong with him that he's keeping to himself. I waited to see if he would talk to you but something tells me he hasn't. Has he?"

"Do you mean the private crying he's been doing? Only I mentioned it to Lance and he says it's temporary due to him being so weak and run down."

"No, there's something else. Artie said it was something that he couldn't possibly talk about with another man."

"Rubbish," Jim responded. "He knows he can tell me anything, we're partners. I'll go and see him when we get back to the house and I'll get it out of him."

"Don't upset him will you? He's supposed to be taking things really quietly, not having a fight."

Jim gave her an affronted look. "As if I would," he said.

"Yes, men often start out with good intentions," Sweetie pointed out. "Anyway, I've said my bit so why don't you take your magnificent horse for a gallop and meet up with me again when you're ready. I shan't be leaving the trail."

Jim gave her another of his looks. Was he really that transparent? It was a good job he didn't meet women with her intuition where men were concerned when he was on assignment.

"I'll see you later then," he said, heading up the embankment and onto open land, urging his horse into a gallop as he went.

Sweetie and her horse ambled on. Now she had spoken to Jim she could enjoy the ride. She estimated that Jim would catch up with her before she reached the end of the trail.

oooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	7. The Old House

**The Night of the English Invasion**

Chapter 7

 **The Old House**

After ten minutes or so of letting his horse have his head, Jim decided to turn back and catch up with Sweetie. He didn't want to leave her too long on her own. His ride had taken him away from the trail but he had ridden in a loop at the end and so found himself only a few minutes away from where he hoped to meet up with his companion.

Rounding a bend behind a rise beyond the trail he heard a noise but before he could make a move to defend himself a fist-sized rock hit him hard on the temple and he fell from his horse to land on the ground with a painful thud.

Three men stepped out from behind a group of nearby trees.

"Say, that was mighty impressive throwing," one of them said.

Mears beamed at the unusual praise. "I owe it to having bowled many a cricket ball on the green in the village where I grew up. But that was many years ago," he added with a sigh. "Still, the skill never leaves you."

The third man spoke up. "All right, but let's get out of here and get this one back to the house for her ladyship to take a look at."

oooooooooo0ooooooooooo

The woman he referred to had no claim on such a lofty title but that didn't stop her behaving as if she had as she perused the prisoner lying unconscious on her sofa. Jim's clothing displayed the fact that he had been lying on the ground and then dragged across the saddle of the horse belonging to one of the men and bumped up and down in front of the rider back to the old house. They would have put him over his own horse but the beast had been totally uncooperative, finally riding off, despite their efforts to stop it.

There was a reddish-coloured lump on his left temple with a cut across it, oozing blood which was congealing rapidly.

"So this is the man you saw with the woman and the baby in Beaumont?"

Mears nodded. "Yes, Ma'am, that's him all right. Fine-looking feller isn't he? Apart from the bump of course."

"That is beside the point," Mrs Fortescue-Drummond said. "You might have killed him, hitting him with a rock like that. He would be no good to me if he were dead. Why didn't you threaten him with the gun I supplied and make him come with you?"

"Well ... er..."

"No don't bother! I don't have time for your excuses. I want this man in a condition to converse with me as soon as possible. See to it, Mears!"

Mears moved forward to see what could be done.

"Physically restrain him first, you dolt!" his employer ordered. "Otherwise he might escape and right now he could be the only person who knows the location of my precious little Arthur."

Mears and one of the hired gunmen pushed Jim onto his side and tied his hands and feet, before rolling him back again. Meanwhile the third man had a brilliant idea for waking their prisoner up. He grabbed a carafe of water which was standing on a side-table and threw it in Jim's face.

With a frown Mrs Fortescue-Drummond left the room. She didn't want to be witness to any nastiness.

Having had his mouth partially open some of the water made its way in and also up his nose and into his eyes. With a feeling of drowning, Jim automatically lifted his head and spluttered and coughed as he tried to blink the fluid out of his eyes, while snorting down his nose.

Seeing the outcome of the actions of his cohort, Mears produced a large white handkerchief from his pocket and, after dabbing at his prisoner's eyes began polishing Jim's nose with it. Jim took the opportunity to blow his nose violently in order to clear it.

"Thank you," he said, taking in the group of men around him and feeling the restraints he realised for the first time why he had been unable to dry his own face. He looked at Mears who was wondering what to do next. He'd never used fisticuffs before but didn't see how else he would be able to get information out of the man in front of him.

Jim should have been worried about what was going to happen to him but strangely his first thought was of Sweetie and how she was going to deal with his disappearance.

oooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Sweetie had ridden almost as far as the big, old house at the end of the trail and was expecting to see Jim ride into view at any moment. Instead she was shocked to see his rider-less horse galloping toward her. She couldn't imagine how an expert horseman like Jim could have been thrown from his horse, especially on such flat terrain. The horse having stopped in front of her for a couple of seconds now set off again. Believing he was somehow leading her to Jim, Sweetie followed. Jim's horse slowed down after a while and pawed the ground. They were about a hundred yards from the old house and, even at that distance she could tell that it had become occupied since she had last ridden there. There were horses in the stable and she briefly spotted someone at one of the upstairs windows.

Sweetie looked at Jim's horse. "Is that where your master is?" she asked. The horse pawed the ground a second time. She considered her options. If Jim was injured, and it seemed likely because he would never have left his horse otherwise, then maybe he had been taken to the house and she ought to enquire after him. But if that was the case, why hadn't his horse followed him to the house? She could ride home and fetch Lance but that would mean leaving Artie on his own with the baby or staying herself and Lance coming back on his own. More worried about Lance than herself, Sweetie couldn't see why she couldn't handle this on her own. Her first priority would be to gain entrance to the house. She dismounted and cautiously scouted round the building on foot, stopping when she saw a side door, probably to the kitchen. As quietly as possible, Sweetie approached the door. At that moment she heard a commotion at the front of the house. She could hear a horse neighing loudly and the sound of hooves on gravel. A moment later the front door opened and voices told her that Jim's horse had galloped up to the house and at least two of the occupants were trying to get him under control. Having distracted the household for long enough, the horse galloped away and Sweetie found herself in a lobby where one door led to the kitchen and the other through a hallway leading to the front rooms of the house.

She went to the left and heard voices coming from one of the rooms. She saw a woman come down the stairs and enter the room. There was the sound of a blow and a suppressed groan. Without a second thought Sweetie burst into the room to hear the woman say,

"Stop that man, Mears! You know how I abhor witnessing violence of any kind."

Mears caught the man's arm before he could land another blow to Jim's midriff. "That's enough," he said. "Remember who's paying you."

The hired man looked annoyed but he shrugged and turned aside. He knew how he would handle things if he were in charge but the English dame had some weird ideas when it came to getting information out of people.

Suddenly everyone turned to see Sweetie as she swept over to the sofa and grabbed Jim, pulling him into her arms, which was very awkward for him as his hands were still tied behind his back.

"Oh Jim!" she cried tearfully, kissing him. Then she turned on the woman. "What have you done to my husband?" she demanded.

"Your husband?" the lady exclaimed.

"Yes my husband, James West," Sweetie informed her, brandishing her wedding ring in front of the woman's face. "I demand you untie him at once!"

Mrs Fortescue-Drummond was momentarily flummoxed but then her eyes narrowed. "And what about the baby with whom my manservant, Mears, saw you in Beaumont?"

"Why, who else would he be but Jim Junior? What is this all about anyway?"

"Come come, my dear, whether or not you are married to this man is neither here nor there but I know for certain that the baby you refer to is actually my grandson Arthur Hamish, Malcolm Fortescue-Drummond, or he will be once he has been properly baptised."

Jim and Sweetie exchanged looks. They had both had a suspicion that his abduction and imprisonment was connected to Artie Jr. Now it was confirmed.

"Now then, Rebekah," Jim warned. "Don't upset the poor lady. She's obviously gone mad with grief over the loss of this..er..grandson," he said making it sound like the child didn't really exist and that Mrs Fortescue-Drummond was delusional.

"Are you implying that I have invented the existence of a grandchild?" the lady asked, sharply. "I can assure you that I am under no illusion as to the baby's existence."

"If he exists then where is the mother?" Jim asked. This was the answer he and Artie had long wanted to hear. Even now Jim was hopeful that they could rescue her and reunite her with her son.

As he spoke he swivelled round so that he was now sitting on the sofa. Sweetie went over and sat beside him and they both looked at their host expectantly, waiting to hear her answer.

Mrs Fortescue-Drummond sat down in an armchair and sighed.

"All right, I'll tell you from the beginning and when I have finished I expect you to lead me to the child and restore him to me."

oooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	8. Arthur Fortescue-Drummond

**The Night of the English Invasion**

Chapter 8

 **Arthur Fortescue-Drummond**

Mrs Fortescue-Drummond thought for a few moments and then, placing her hands on her lap she began.

"I was brought up in a small manor house in Hampshire and I came out into society in 1840 at which time I was presented to the Queen. She was quite beautiful in those days. Nowadays she has sadly lost her looks and her figure though she still possesses a presence. I was expected to make a good marriage, though not into the peerage. I was pretty enough with golden hair and violet eyes but I was not an heiress."

She caught Sweetie staring intently at her face.

"They're not violet anymore, my dear" Mrs Fortescue-Drummond said. "I'm afraid that, as has my hair, they have faded to grey over the years."

I met Arthur at a ball held by Lady Sefton," she continued. It was she who introduced us and I could tell he was taken by me from the start. He was a very good match, from an old, respectable family with an estate in Suffolk as well as a London Town House. We married within the year and I bore him two sons, the eldest being named Francis after my late father-in-law and the younger one Arthur, after his father. It was a shock when my husband passed away in 1861, the same year as Prince Albert. I wasn't alone in wearing black. It became the predominant colour for fashions for some time." She sighed. "Anyway," she continued brusquely, "My son Francis inherited his father's estate and Arthur went with him to Suffolk to help him manage the land. He soon became almost obsessed with the rearing of livestock and I must say he improved the herd markedly. But as a younger son he felt he should make his way in the world and travelled to this God-forsaken area of your country, to breed cattle. He wrote to me a few times and then, two months ago, I received a letter from a female claiming that he had married her and then died, leaving her to raise his son, also named Arthur."

Here she removed a delicate, lace handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes, obviously still mourning the death of her beloved younger son. Sweetie instantly realised the reason she was dressed in black, albeit a light chiffon over a silk underskirt, in deference to the temperature outside.

She cleared her throat and continued. "Francis couldn't leave his responsibilities at the drop of a hat so I took it upon myself to seek out this young lady and find out if what she said was true, even if it meant travelling half way around the world."

"What did you find when you got here?" Sweetie asked, enthralled by the story so far and the bravery of the matronly woman in front of her.

"It was as I had thought, the girl was totally unsuitable as a wife for Arthur," she said, alienating Sweetie with her snobbery. "She possessed no family and her late father was merely a jobbing horse wrangler, moving from place to place hiring himself out. The girl herself is pretty enough I suppose but what sort of name is Lark, I ask you? I found her living in a ranch house with land that Arthur bought with money willed to him by his grandmother. I shudder at the thought of my grandson being raised in such an environment and among such people. I told her instantly that I would do what I could for Arthur, raise him with all the advantages his father had had but that she must hand him over to me so that I could take him back to England."

"What did she say to your generous offer?" Sweetie asked snidely, disliking the woman more and more.

"The stupid girl was impertinent enough to refuse me," she said crossly. "As if the child would amount to anything living here," she added with disdain.

"Perhaps she loved him and didn't care if he didn't amount to anything," Sweetie said. "Anyway your son obviously thought he could make his fortune here."

"What, a Fortescue-Drummond amount to nothing! Don't be ridiculous. I dare say that if Arthur had lived he would have made a great name for himself by improving the American cattle herds. Besides which he went to Eton and Oxford and I am determined that his son shall have the same education and for that he must return with me. When she ran off with Arthur and then confessed that she had left him on a train, I hired the Hickman brothers to threaten anyone who might get in my way. "

"Where is his mother now?" Jim asked the all-important question.

"The reckless girl who left my precious grandson on a train, with people she had never met? I have dealt with her."

"My God, you've killed her!" Sweetie exclaimed.

"Killed her? Don't be ridiculous! I have merely left her in the hands of two redoubtable women I hired to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't run away. I can assure you she is staying in one of the finest hotels there is in Texas - at least it might be. The usual standards here are unknown to me."

"Oh," said Sweetie, "I think you're mean anyway," she added.

"Now then, Rebekah, behave like a lady who is fit to be my wife," Jim reprimanded her.

This impressed Mrs Fortescue-Drummond. At last a civilised man who knew something about family honour and correct behaviour. He dressed well too, she thought, looking him over, though he was a little worse for wear at the moment.

Sweetie merely gasped at him and would have stamped her foot at his audacity in speaking to her like that but then she remembered that she had claimed to be his wife and so she would have to play along.

"I'm sorry, Jim," she said. "I would never want to do anything that would upset you. Please accept my apologies, Mrs Fortescue-Drummond. My husband was quite right to reprimand me," she added, swallowing the bile in her throat that she was sure would choke her.

"It was a very interesting story," Jim said. "And I sympathise with your feelings as a mother and a grandmother but I really don't see what it has to do with me and my wife and little Jim Junior. What use would we have for travelling around on a train anyway? There's no railroad to Beaumont."

Jim could see that he had the woman fairly convinced. In fact she was already considering the dressing down she would give to Mears for bringing her all this way on a wild goose chase. But first she would have to deal with Mr West.

"Mears, untie this man," she said.

Mears could tell which way the wind was blowing. He knew now that his employer believed he had brought her the wrong couple and that the baby he had seen was not little Arthur. Unlike Mrs Fortescue-Drummond he realised that the way James West was dressed didn't fit with his story, and neither did that magnificent stallion he had been riding. Jim turned his back for Mears to untie the bindings around his wrists. Having done so, Jim rubbed his wrists to restore the circulation. While he was preoccupied the other man reached over his shoulder and before Jim could stop him he had removed his identity card from inside his jacket and had it in his hand. Mears glanced at it and then presented it to his employer with a flourish.

"You might think twice about letting him go once you've seen this, Ma'am" he said.

Mrs Fortescue-Drummond read the words on the piece of pasteboard.

"So, you are James West of the United States Treasury Department, secret Services Division," she said. "I'm beginning to suspect that you have been lying to me. Now I and wonder whether this woman is actually your wife or whether she is also a secret service agent. Whatever the truth of your relationship is, I can easily imagine that you may have been on the train on which Lark left her baby. Or, which is worse, you have been sent to spy on me and to prevent me from accomplishing my mission." She paced the floor for a while deep in thought and then turned back to James West.

"No, I don't believe the American government would be interested in my little affairs. So the former must be true and I'm right in thinking that you have Arthur and that this woman, whether your wife or not, has been looking after him. You two," she said, turning to the two hired guns, "take the prisoner at gunpoint down to the cellar. Don't let him get away! Take the girl down there as well. As she claims to be his wife she won't mind sharing his accommodation."

One of the hired guns stepped behind him and Jim had to act fast. As they moved toward the door he suddenly turned without warning and grabbed the barrel of the gun and jerked the man forward, landing him a punch in the face. He overbalanced and Jim took the gun from his hand. He then turned on the other gunman and shot him, the bullet grazing his hand and forcing him to drop his weapon.

While Jim had been doing what he did best, fighting at a ratio of two to one, Sweetie had got it into her head to run for the door. When Jim fired the gun she stumbled and fell over the rug. She tried to regain her balance, grabbed at Jim to save herself and ended up tackling him to the floor. Mears, holding his own gun but reluctant to fire it used the butt to hit Jim on the top of his head. Jim hit the rug while Sweetie let out a scream.

oooooooooo0ooooooooooo

When Jim next came to he found himself in the aforementioned cellar with Sweetie as companion. He winced when he felt the abrasion on the top of his head.

"Jim, you're awake!" Sweetie declared unnecessarily.

Jim would have scowled at her if it didn't hurt so much. "How long have I been unconscious?" he asked.

"I don't know exactly but it's been a couple of hours at least."

"Great!" Jim exclaimed. "Lance will be wondering where we are. The last thing I want is him blundering in here. And I hope Artie is asleep – I don't want him being worried in his condition."

"I suppose it's perfectly all right for me to be embroiled in all this though," Sweetie said.

"You invited yourself, lady," Jim said, then regretted it. "I'm sorry Sweetie, I'm like a bear with a sore head, literally. Of course it's not all right for you to be here. But I might have a chance at getting us out of here. I just wish I knew what was happening back at the house."

oooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	9. Foolhardiness

**The Night of the English Invasion**

Chapter 9

 **Foolhardiness**

Artie was out of bed and sitting in a chair by the window. To the casual onlooker it would seem that he was mindlessly staring out at the sky but actually he was deep in thought, trying to find a way through his dilemma. Ever since that morning he had felt restless, with a feeling that he had been wasting time. He took this as a good sign; perhaps his recovery was progressing faster than Lance had predicted. But he still felt unable to pick up the reins of his previous life. Anyway, he decided, he would go and hunt out Jim and let him know that he was rested enough for them to make plans to leave in a couple of days. Maybe he would feel differently then and if not... Well he would have to confide in his partner – he didn't want to risk putting Jim's life in danger if his nerve failed him while they were on assignment. He stood up and began to dress himself.

oooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Lance had been busy in his study writing notes on some ideas he had for improving the health of his patients and hadn't noticed how late it was getting.

When Artie arrived downstairs there was no sign of Jim or Sweetie. He heard sounds coming from the kitchen and found Lance bathing the baby. The doctor had hoped it would take his mind off the fact that Sweetie hadn't come home but instead it made him think of her and the hope he had had of them having a son of their own one day. He looked up when he heard Artie enter the room but he didn't say anything about his patient being out of bed and dressed. Artie had the idea that something was wrong.

"Where's Jim?" Artie asked.

Lance looked back down at the baby and sighed. "He and Sweetie have run off together," he said tightly. Then he just seemed to collapse in on himself and suddenly sat down on a nearby chair.

"What?" Artie exclaimed. "That's madness. There's nothing between Jim and Sweetie. Pull yourself together, man."

"You must have noticed them, heads together, talking."

Artie was about to open his mouth to deny what Lance was saying but then he remembered the times Jim and Sweetie had abruptly stopped talking when he entered the room and then refused to tell him what they had been talking about. Then sense prevailed.

"No you have to be wrong. Jim is just not like that."

"They have a history don't they?" Lance said rather than asked. "Sweetie was willing to give up everything including me to devote her life to looking after him."

"Well, she wasn't exactly willing; she was just suffering from guilt that it was her fault Jim was in that position."*

"You can defend him all you want and I'd expect you to because you're his friend but if they haven't run away together then where are they? Answer me that!"

"I don't know. I've been in my room until just now. Where are they supposed to be?"

"They went for a ride over three hours ago. They should have been back long before now."

"Good grief, man, why aren't you out there looking for them?"

"There's no point; they'll be miles away by now? I don't know what I'm going to do without her."

"Stop thinking about yourself! Has it occurred to you that they may be in trouble?"

"In trouble? They only went for a ride."

"Yes and there are people out there who are looking for this baby. What if they have Jim and Sweetie?"

Lance stood up. "We have to go and find them," he said. "Good grief, I hope nothing has happened to them. I can't believe I've been so stupid; standing here when Sweetie needs me."

"Correction, I have to go and find them. You stay here and look after the baby!"

Lance nodded, reluctantly. This was one thing that Artie could handle much better than him. "Are you well enough though?" he suddenly thought to ask. The man had after all been suffering from exhaustion a few days ago.

"Don't worry about me," Artie told him. "I'm tougher than you think." He didn't reveal that he was tempted to plead illness and let the doctor do as he suggested and let him go. But that would mean that he would feel even worse about himself than he did. Besides, Lance wouldn't know what to do if he needed to rescue Jim and Sweetie.

"I just need to get dressed and fetch some things from my saddlebags and I'll be on my way," Artie said with much more confidence than he felt. He hadn't imagined there would be any trouble in this quiet location. He had seen himself safe from having to make decisions. He chided himself for having forgotten that he and Jim were supposed to have set out days ago to find out who was threatening him and his mother.

When Artie eventually left the house it was with a small arsenal about his person. He went to the stable to retrieve his horse and set off in the direction that Jim and Sweetie had taken earlier. He tried to block from his mind what he would do when he reached the point where some sort of rescue would be needed.

oooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Artie was not out for a pleasant ride so he made it to the old house in half the time it had taken Sweetie and Jim. The journey had not been as easy as he would have liked though as he had a strange sense of detachment throughout, as if all this was happening to someone else.

As he approached the house he saw signs of habitation like Sweetie before him but, unlike her, he did not know if the house was normally occupied or not. He dismounted and approached it on foot and, while skirting some trees, he saw something move and realised it was a horse and not just any horse. 'Blackjack', he breathed. He approached the horse and it came over to him. He wouldn't let Artie touch him but Artie spoke to him reassuringly. It helped to calm him a bit too and he felt easier about going on. Now he knew that Jim must be in the house. His horse would never go far from his side, especially if he was in trouble. If Jim had had an accident or been taken ill Blackjack would be in the stable so that meant he had probably been brought there against his will. Artie crept up to the house, following in Sweetie's footsteps by entering in through the side door.

He could hear voices coming from a room to his left, two people, but neither sounded like Jim or Sweetie so he looked around him. There was a door opposite with a padlock on it. 'That was suspicious,' thought Artie. He decided to pick the lock and even got as far as taking the necessary implement from his coat pocket when he suddenly froze. What if he was caught? He crushed the thought and stared rigidly at the lock-pick, willing himself to action. The next thing he knew he was leaning on the locked door, breathing hard and sweating profusely. He felt suddenly weak but took only a moment to recover before applying the lock-pick. It worked even though it took a little longer than usual and he soon had the door open. He crept through it to find that there was some sort of platform beneath his feet. He didn't know how much room he had as it was pitch dark and the only light was coming from the hallway behind him. Before he knew what was happening a hand came out of nowhere and seizing his leg gave it a tug, pulling him off balance and pitching him headlong down a flight of stairs. He fell awkwardly and let out a yell as he hit the stone cellar floor.

oooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued

*See TNOT Floundering Female


	10. Poor Artie!

**The Night of the English Invasion**

Chapter 10

 **Poor Artie**

Just as Artie was attempting to get up someone jumped on top of him pinning him to the ground. There was the sound of a lamp being lit and Artie found a familiar face almost nose-to-nose with his own.

"Jim, what the...?" he began.

"Artie!" Jim said at the same time, allowing his friend to sit up. "It's great to see you, pal. Hold on, what are you doing here?"

"Having my ankle broken I suspect," Artie replied, wincing as he tried to move it.

Just then a noisy bundle of fur threw itself down the stairs and landed on Jim with a growl.

"Steady, boy!" Jim. Jasper seemed to recognise him once he was close enough and allowed him to ruffle his fur. "Where did you come from?"

"He must have followed my trail," Artie said. "Ow, get off my foot, you brute!"

Jasper ran over to greet Sweetie too and seemed excited to find them in such an exciting place, so full of smells.

Sweetie skirted the animal and came closer with the lamp. She knelt down to take a look at Artie's foot. "We have to get your boot off right away," she said. "Do you have a knife on you?"

"In my other boot," Artie said, trying to prevent Jasper from licking his face.

Sweetie drew out the knife and set about destroying his footwear. It was not a totally painless operation but Artie gritted his teeth and bore it with fortitude, while Jasper laid at his side, his eyes sad at his master's suffering.

Artie couldn't help thinking that this would mean he was excused any further action. After all, he had rescued Jim and Sweetie so his mission was complete. Let Jim deal with everything else.

"There," said Sweetie when she was finished. She examined Artie's foot, handling it as gently as possible, but even so he let out muffled exclamations at the pain she caused.

"It's not broken," she pronounced, relief in her voice, "but you've twisted it."

"What do you mean – _I_ – twisted it? I'm assuming it was one of you two who threw me down the stairs."

"I'm sorry, Artie," Sweetie said, with real regret on her voice. "The best treatment would be a cold compress," she added.

"We don't have access to one," Jim said, "and there's not time anyway. Help me to get him off the floor and haul him up the stairs!"

They managed to get Artie to his feet but although she was game for anything it was abundantly clear that Sweetie could in no way support half of Artie's weight whilst getting him up the stairs. Jim looked around the cellar until he spotted a bristled broom.

"Okay, he said, that's not gonna work. Can you fetch that brush from over there?"

Sweetie did as he asked and handed it to Jim then helped him steady Artie as he manoeuvred the broom under his armpit, bristle side up.

"That'll do for now," he said.

"Thanks a lot," Artie said. It almost sounded like he meant it.

"I said I was sorry," Sweetie said, hearing the sarcasm in his voice. "How was I to know that _you_ would come creeping in here in the dark?"

"Well I didn't exactly have a choice, since someone had put the lamp out."

"Give it up you two!" Jim ordered, as he helped Artie slowly up the stairs. "Anyway, you didn't answer my question, Artie. What are you doing here?"

"You didn't come back from your ride and Lance was worried," Artie explained in between grunts. "He thought the two of you had run away together but I persuade him that you must both be in trouble so I left him with the baby and came to find you."

" _Me_ run away with _Jim_?" Sweetie said, ending on a giggle.

"I don't see what's so funny," Jim said, insulted.

"I'm sorry, Jim, I just can't believe Lance could be so addle-brained."

Jim looked affronted. "There are a lot of women who would jump at the chance to run away with me," he said.

"Running _and_ jumping," Sweetie said. "It sounds like a sport."

Jim was aware he had been insulted but realised that a continuation of the conversation could be outside the bounds of propriety.

"Can we drop this now and concentrate on getting out of here?" he said.

With Jim supporting one arm and the makeshift crutch supporting the other Artie eventually reached the top of the stairs and the basement door, despite the attempts of Jasper to trip him up. Sweetie was ordered to take a look outside to make sure no-one was around and, finding the coast clear, she signalled to Jim who brought Artie out into the hallway. None of them noticed that there weren't any noises coming from the front of the house any more.

"I'll get you back to the house and then I'll come back to deal with her Ladyship and her lackeys," Jim said.

Artie nodded, relieved.

Once outside Artie gave them directions to where he had concealed his horse. Sweetie followed with Jasper watched while Jim pushed, rather than hoisted Artie into a position where he could scramble onto his horse. He couldn't put his injured foot into the stirrup so he left it banging against the horse's flank.

Once Artie was aloft, Jim whistled and Blackjack came swiftly to his master's side, having been waiting for his appearance. Jim lifted Sweetie up onto the black stallion and swung himself up behind her. He noticed that it was still only late afternoon as they made their way as quickly as they could toward the safety of the Kirby house.

When they arrived Jim rode his horse to the front door and Artie followed him. He lifted Sweetie down and she took just a moment to straighten her dress, saying "Take Artie to the kitchen. I'll go and fetch Lance!" before she disappeared inside the house. Jasper ran after her but stopped when he reached his basket, to retrieve a dog biscuit he had hidden there.

Jim turned to his partner, who was looking weary. He then remembered that Artie had been suffering from exhaustion just the week before and was not supposed to have left his room.

"Come on, Artie," he said, "lean on me."

Artie could best be described as having toppled from his horse and had just enough strength to prevent putting his whole weight onto his partner, managing to stand on his one foot while he waited for Jim to place the 'crutch' under his armpit. By the time they reached the kitchen they expected Lance to be there. Jim called his name and then Sweetie's bit there was no response. With much grunting and clenching of teeth, Jim helped Artie into one of the dining chairs and lifted his injured ankle onto a second chair, at which point Artie closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief.

"You stay there and rest," Jim said unnecessarily. "I'll see what's keeping Lance and then I'll come back and make you a cup of coffee. Okay?"

Artie nodded without opening his eyes and Jim left the room. He wondered why Sweetie hadn't brought Lance to see Artie. He could imagine that she had stopped to make explanations – that would be just like her. He could hear voices coming from the parlour so he headed there.

As soon as he entered the room Jim could tell there was something wrong. Sitting comfortably in an armchair was Mrs Fortescue-Drummond, a baby fretfully lying in her arms.

"Good afternoon, Mr West. I must say I didn't expect you to escape from the basement, but as you are here now..."

Sweetie was standing White-faced next to her husband and the two of them were looking over to an area behind his left shoulder. He turned to see what they were looking at but was forestalled by the barrel of a gun being shoved against his lower spine.

oooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	11. The Arrival

**The Night of the English Invasion**

Chapter 11

 **The Arrival**

"Don't move!" came a voice he recognised.

"Mears! Don't you ever get tired of this posturing? There's no way you're going to shoot me."

"You're right but I'm quite happy to render you unconscious with the butt of my gun," Mears assured him.

Jim winced. "Yes, you're good at that aren't you?" He still had a sore head from the last time. However he was confident he was quick enough to disarm Mears before he had a chance to attack. This was made easier by the distraction that Artie caused by hobbling into the room at that moment.

"Hey, Jim, where's the cup of coffee you...oh!"

Artie froze as soon as he saw his partner being held at gunpoint. He hadn't met Mears before so thought that Jim might be shot at any moment. His nerves began to jangle and he shook his head to clear it.

The distraction was enough for Jim to turn the tables on Mears. He turned round, grabbed the barrel of Mears' gun and yanked it from his hand in one fluid movement.

"Hey!" Mears said, surprised, and raised his hands in the air as Jim pointed his own gun at him. Jim motioned him to the other side of the room and the Kirby's took the opportunity to join Jim so that all three of them were looking at Mears.

There was a shout followed by a loud noise as a bullet shattered a nearby window, missing Artie's ear by a few inches. He threw himself to the floor, despite the pain in his ankle. Hopefully everyone would think he had cried out in pain and not because of sheer panic.

Jim ushered the Kirbys behind a sofa and crouch down behind a chair, scanning the window, his eyes searching out the gunman.

Mrs Fortescue-Drummond sat frozen in her chair, the baby now crying.

Mears had been equally startled by the gunshot. "What on earth do you think you're doing?" he shouted from his hiding place behind the door. "You nearly blew my head off."

A voice came back through the shattered window.

"Hey, don't fire at us!" Dale Hickman said. "We didn't mean to shoot nobody. The dang dog bit Jake on the hand and his gun just went off. We didn't kill anyone did we?"

"No, thank goodness, you pair of idiots."

Jim stood up and aimed his gun at the window. "Put down your guns and show yourselves!" he ordered.

As he spoke Jasper rushed through the door with Jake's gun in his hand, laying it at Artie's feet. The agent had managed to raise himself up on his makeshift crutch by this time.

"Well done, boy!" Artie said, rubbing his hand over the dog's head, much to his delight as evidenced by the wagging of his tail.

Dale's gun came through the window, followed by the brothers themselves. Jake was nursing his right hand, which Jasper had bitten.

"Oh dear, let me see to that," Sweetie said, advancing on the injured man. Jake held out his hand and she took a look at it before ushering him into the kitchen where she could clean it and put a bandage on it.

Jim, who still had his gun trained on the other three conspirators, felt he was strangely losing control of the situation. But he didn't try to stop Sweetie for some reason. Maybe it was because he had concluded that the men and woman in front of him were not actually any danger to him, as long as he made sure that he didn't allow Mears to get near him with a heavy object. That man was addicted to hitting him on the head.

Artie had settled himself in an armchair and had placed his foot on a stool. He had picked up the gun Jasper had presented him with and it was resting in his lap. The dog was happily sitting by his chair, sizing up the opposition, ready to attack should his master say the word.

"Lance," Jim said, "Would you b willing to ride into town and fetch the sheriff?"

"I'd be happy to," Kirby replied, leaving the room.

Mrs Fortescue-Drummond opened her mouth to speak but Dale got in before her. "You ain't gonna hand us over to the sheriff are you?" he asked. "Me and Jake ain't really gunmen. We lost our farm and when this lady asked us to help her get her grandson back from some kidnappers we said yes 'cos we needed the money. We ain't never killed nobody and Jake wouldn't even have shot at you if'n it wasn't for that there dog."

"How eloquent," Mrs Fortescue-Drummond said with a sniff. "You deceived me, Mr Hickman," she accused. "You and your brother made me think you were guns for hire."

"You thought that 'cos we had guns they were for hire. Look around you, lady, this is the west, most people got guns."

"Well, it seems I overestimated you," Mrs. Fortescue-Drummond said. She sat down, suddenly deflated, realising that she held no power any more. She hugged little Arthur to her.

Just then Jake and Sweetie came back. Now both the Hickman brothers had a bandaged hand. They looked at each other and shrugged.

"What happens now?" Mears asked. "I suppose the game is up and you'll be taking us into custody."

"Yeah, Jim," Artie chimed in. "What does happen now?"

"Well, there's the question of having kidnapped a secret service agent," Jim said, "and knocking him unconscious – twice," he added staring straight at Mears who was looking particularly sorry for himself.

"You can't count the first time," Dale chimed in, "we didn't know you was a secret service agent then."

"He's right, Jim," Artie said. Now that it was all over he was feeling more himself.

Jim frowned at Artie and then back at the culprits. "I will ask the sheriff to make sure that you make it safely onto a ship sailing for England. You are not welcome here anymore"

"Thank you, Mr West," Mears said. "I for one am quite keen to put all this nastiness behind us. My recent role is not one I relished and certainly my previous experiences in England had in no way prepared me for it."

"What about us?" Dale Hickman asked. "We don't wanna go on no boat. We were born right here in the USA."

"I'll think of something," Jim said. "But first we have to sort out this business with the baby and his mother," he said. "Where is his mother?" Jim asked the English woman.

"I..." she began but was interrupted by a sound coming from outside – the sound of horses.

Lance entered the room. "On my way into town I ran into this fellow," he said and then stood to one side to reveal a tall, blond, well-dressed man in his mid thirties who turned to Mrs Fortescue-Drummond and said, "Hello, mother."

oooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	12. Bon Voyage!

**The Night of the English Invasion**

Chapter 12

 **Bon Voyage**

"Francis!" Mrs Drummond Fortescue said.

"So you're her eldest son," Jim said, shaking hands with the stranger. "I thought you were too busy with your estates."

"Is that what my mother told you, Mr...?"

"West, James West. I'm an agent with the Secret Service." He indicated Artie. "This is my partner, Artemus Gordon."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Mr West, Mr Gordon." Artie bowed his head in acknowledgement. "I am Francis Drummond Fortescue, as you have already guessed. It looks like things are far more serious than I feared. I hope you're not going to arrest my mother."

"That depends," Jim said, "on whether she tells us where she is holding your sister-in-law."

"Mother, what have you been up to?"

"Someone had to do something," Mrs Drummond Fortescue said.

"So you ran off, half across the world without even telling me."

"I didn't want to bother you."

"My brother is dead and his widow and son left all on their own. Of course I want to be bothered. Confess, Mother, you came here without me because you knew I would never approve of the tactics you have employed."

"How can you say such things?" Mrs Drummond Fortescue said.

Francis became aware that his mother was holding a baby. "Is that little Arthur?" he asked, a smile coming to his face. "May I hold him?"

The others looked on as Francis took his tiny nephew in his arms and tickled him under the chin. "He's beautiful," he said, "and so much like his father." A tear came to his eye as he handed the baby back. "Now, mother, where have you hidden Lark?"

"I really don't know what all the fuss is about; she's perfectly safe and quite comfortable," Mrs Fortescue-Drummond said.

"I'm not accusing you of harming her, mother but you must see that if you want to avoid being arrested by these gentlemen here you have to give her up."

"Oh all right, the wretched girl is at Hord's Hotel in Huntsville.

"Thank you," Jim said. "Now, as the Sheriff isn't coming, I suggest that Mr Fortescue-Drummond and I travel to Huntsville to fetch Lark. Mrs Fortescue-Drummond, you will come with us and Sweetie, if you don't mind, can you come and look after the baby on the journey?"

"Why of course, Jim," Sweetie said.

"What about the rest of us?" Mears asked.

"You can go back to the old house and pack up, then bring the luggage to the hotel in Huntsville and book rooms for yourself, your employer and her son. "You," he said, turning to the Hickman brothers. You stay in town and I'll contact you when I return."

"What about me?" Artie asked.

"Lance?" Jim said, prompting his medical advice.

Lance turned to Artie. "You'd better stay here with me for the time being. You still need further rest, especially after your adventures today and there is your twisted ankle to take into consideration. You should stay off that for a few days."

"Jim?" Artie asked.

"I have to agree with the doctor, Artie. I'll come back here when everything has been sorted out and we can return to the Wanderer together."

"Sure," Artie said. The delay in returning to active service suited him very well, though without Sweetie he and Lance would have to fend for themselves. "Maybe I'll get the chance to do some cooking. That's the way I like to relax."

"As long as you don't put pressure on that ankle," Lance warned.

"Well, we'd better set off," Jim said. "I guess your carriage is around here somewhere, Mears?"

"I hid it among the trees behind the property," Mears admitted.

"I shall accompany you and Mrs Kirby, Mother," Francis said.

"All right then," Jim said. "Mears, you can take the buckboard to fetch the luggage. Sweetie, pack up everything you and the baby will need and we'll get going. See you, Artie."

oooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _Ten days later –Aboard the Wanderer_

"Well, that was a great success," Jim said, taking a sip from the delicious cup of coffee Artie had made for them both.

"It's certainly great to be back on the Wanderer," Artie added. He was lounging on the couch, watching his partner through lazy eyes. "They should all be safely on their way to England by now. By the way, what did you do with the Hickman brothers?"

"I gave them a warning and suggested they stick to honest work from now on. The money Mrs Fortescue-Drummond paid them should help set them up. How are you feeling now?"

"I owe a lot to Lance and that tonic he gave me. The extra week or so we spent with the Kirbys gave me the rest of the time I needed to recover and for you and I to talk at last. I'm sorry I kept things from you for so long but I guess I wasn't thinking straight."

"I'm just sorry that I had to leave you in Beaumont for several days while I sorted things out in Huntsville. I could tell, from the moment that you fell down those cellar steps that something was up with you. You gave away the fact that you were glad that your ankle meant you were out of the action. You were just too quiet and didn't insist on carrying on the way you usually do. Later on you were obviously scared when Jake accidentally fired at you."

"I thought I'd hidden that quite well," Artie said.

"Artie, you screamed like a girl."

"I did not! Did I?"

"Well maybe that's exaggerating a bit," Jim admitted.

"Still everything's back to normal now, thank goodness."

"Yes, but don't go overdoing it in future and don't keep things from me. I'm your friend as well as your partner."

"Okay, hey that sounds like a carriage pulling up outside. Who do you suppose it is?"

"Easy enough to find out," Jim said, getting up to open the door. He got there just as someone knocked on it.

Standing there was Francis Fortescue-Drummond and a pretty, young woman holding a baby in her arms. She had raven-coloured hair and eyes of emerald green.

"I hope you don't mind us dropping by like this," Francis said.

"Of course not; hello, Lark. It's nice to see you both again, come on in."

"Hi," Artie said, standing up and addressing the woman. "I'm Artemus Gordon. We didn't get to meet before. We thought you were on your way back to England by now."

"Hello, Mr Gordon," Lark said.

"Won't you sit down?" Jim said

"Thank you."

"There's coffee in the pot if you'd like some."

"No thank you, "Francis said. "I'm more of a tea drinker anyway. We don't intend to stop long. We're on our way to New York to board a ship back to England."

"We just wanted to say goodbye and to thank you once again for all you did for me," Lark said. "I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost little Arthur."

"What are your plans now?" Artie asked.

"Francis has suggested that Arthur and I come to live on his estate and then, once Arthur is a little older, he will take me to stay with his mother in London." Her nose wrinkled at that. "Evidently it's necessary for Arthur's sake that I be introduced into Society. I have decided to take him up on his offer," she said, smiling across at him.

"You will take London by storm," Francis said.

Jim and Artie exchanged looks.

"That sounds like a good idea," Artie said, "but what about the property in Texas?"

Francis smiled. "That was easy to arrange," he said. "Lark agreed to appoint an experienced cattle ranch foreman to look after the herd and the breeding programme. The Hickman brothers decided that Texas is not the place for farming and they agreed to sign on as ranch hands."

"When he's older Arthur can make the decision whether he wants to carry on his father's work or he may decide to sell the ranch," Lark pointed out. "He is half American so I want to make sure he has a stake in the country of his birth, but only if he wants to."

Francis smiled at Lark. "I can easily understand why my brother married you," he said.

Lark blushed and held Arthur even closer to her heart; he was all she had left of her husband.

Francis put an arm around her shoulder. "Well," he said, "I'm afraid we must be going, gentlemen. My mother is waiting in the carriage."

"Why didn't you bring her in with you?" Artie asked.

Francis grinned. "I think she was too embarrassed after the way she behaved."

Jim laughed. "I can quite believe it," he said. "Please give her our kind regards and tell her that all is forgiven," he added, "as long as she doesn't show her face on this side of the Atlantic again."

"I'm sure she'll be grateful and I doubt she would ever want to come to America again – no insult on your country intended."

"None taken," Artie said.

They stood up. "Thank you once again for everything," Lark said. "I'm glad I left my baby on your train."

Jim and Artie looked at each other. No, neither of them could agree about that. It had been one hell of a time looking after the little fella.

"Don't mention it," Jim finally said with a smile. "It was actually Jasper who found him and kept him safe."

"Jasper?" Lark queried.

"He was our dog," Artie explained. "But we decided that it wasn't fair to kep him on the train so we left him with the Kirbys."

"I see. I'm sorry I never met him."

"Well, it's been a pleasure to meet you," Artie said, showing their visitors to the door. "Bon voyage!" he added as they walked away, waving. He shut the door and turned to his partner. "That's one brave woman, travelling all the way to England with that mother-in-law and that baby."

"Talking of which..." Jim began.

"Did you see the way Francis looked at her?" Artie interrupted him. "I hope for his sake that she feels the same, once she's gotten over her husband's death."

"...Sweetie is going to have a baby, she told me on the way back from Huntsville."

Artie's head turned so fast he almost made himself dizzy. "What!"

"I'd better pour you some brandy," Jim said with a smile.

"Sweetie having a baby," Artie said with a worried look.

"Don't worry, she's already had two."

"What!"

"Yeah, Little Artie and Jim Junior."

"Jim, I think you'd better sit down and explain yourself."

oooooooooo0ooooooooooo

The End


End file.
